Orchard of Mines
by Dixon Chicks
Summary: Billie Dixon's fractured childhood left her abhorring violence, but how else can she survive the walkers? Rory Verna replaced Rick Grimes as Shane's partner, yet her loyalties are in conflict. Two young women thrown into a world of the dead, who themselves throw everything in motion. Very slow-burning romance. Season 1 onwards. Rick/OC.
1. Our Solemn Hour

**Chapter One: Our Solemn Hour**

* * *

_A/N: So this is obviously a Walking Dead fanfic, and a cowritten story by two authors. This story begins in Season 1, but we plan to continue all the way through. There will be some romance and pairings a bit later, but at first it's not a major part of the story so if you're not into slow-burning romances this might not be for you. The only characters we own are Billie Dixon and Rory Verna. _

* * *

**~ Rory ~**

The blue and red lights throbbed against the approaching night, pulsing behind my eyes every time I blinked.

"You left the cruiser's lights on."

Shane glanced up. "I know."

"Won't it attract the... things?"

"I'm more worried about looters," he said, tossing another armful of canned food from the pantry into a duffel-bag. "I don't want them mistaking this place for an easy target. The lights might discourage 'em."

I didn't argue with his logic; I never did. I shifted against the window and stretched my fingers, stiff from holding onto my gun for so long and so tightly. I kept my eyes glued on the outside.

"How much longer?"

"Not long," he said, zipping up the bag and tossing it over a shoulder with the first. "Just -"

"Shane?"

We both turned to the archway of the kitchen. Lori stood there, red-eyed from crying and clutching a suitcase.

"Yeah?"

"The flash lights and batteries are in the garage, in a camping tote, up high."

"Right, I got it. Don't worry." He paused awkwardly, glanced at me, then back to Rick's wife. "How's Carl?"

"Packing as fast as he can."

He nodded, opened his mouth as if to say more, then shut it. There wasn't much more he could say; he'd said it all the moment we'd arrived.

Lori slipped away again, wan-faced, and Shane came up to me. "Take these bags out to the car, yeah?" I barely had an agreement out of my mouth before he tossed them at my feet and pressed a set of keys into my hand. "It's the greenish one"

"Wait, we aren't taking the cruiser?"

"Lori's car is bigger."

More Shane logic, right.

"But you said -"

"Just take the bags out, Rory."

We were both still in our uniforms. His badge reflected the lights at my back and dazzled me slightly, but it was the blood stains down his shirt that caught and held most of my attention; it was the pulse of the memory of what I'd seen at the hospital that kept replaying in my head. "You promised I could -"

"I know, I know." He was backing toward the garage. "Just do it."

With the two over-full bags on my left shoulder I felt awkward and off-balance, which didn't bode well for aiming, but it left my right arm free to hold my weapon of choice; a standard Glock 34 that fit nicely in my hand. For a man it would have been too small, but Shane's would have been big for me.

Outside the sun was sinking, dragging the day mercilessly with it, its parting salute a faint line of gray on the horizon. With the obnoxious flare of lights parked out front, painting the yard and driveway in varying, shifting colors, it was hard not to be a little night-blind. Shadows danced and twisted, chasing the lights, twisting into things that could be mistaken for moving figures.

I stumbled down the walkway. A ruckus of noise washed over the neighborhood; the standard crickets, breeze, and hush of night overran by shouting three houses down, a brittle scream a street away, and the hollowing of a dog chained and forgotten somewhere in the madness of it. The unlocking of the car made a high pitched squeal that had me cringing. I opened the trunk, shouldered the bags on top of multiple others already there, and stretched on my toes to pull it closed. Something brushed my thigh.

I whirled, raising the gun to chest height on instinct. Chest height is customary; man or woman, you're bound to hit something crippling in the abdominal or thoracic regions. However, I was fast aware that I wasn't about to take down one of those... _things_ unless I'd gotten them in the brain. I had to work on that.

This time, thankfully, my mistake didn't cost my life. It didn't cost me anything; I was pointing at open air.

Down by my knees, a black lab nudged me with his muzzle. I sighed in relief.

"Lost, buddy?" I asked it, as I rubbed its downy ears.

It yelped, and I cast a look around the driveway and street, scoping for threats. I made to turn back to the house, anxious to get out of here and across town where my apartment was, but the lab followed.

I shooed him.

"Go, go back home. Out."

It would not be banished.

Inside, I could hear Shane calling out at Lori about something. Her shadow flitted across the front window's curtain, and I spotted her son's shadow, too, lingering in a doorway. I'd only seen him twice before; one of those time was in passing within the picture that sat on Officer Rick's desk. A man I never even met, but whom now was dead, and I got to see his son's face go pale at the news of it.

God, what was I doing here?

The metal teeth of the car keys dug into my palm. I glanced at Lori's car, full of food and supplies. Something like temptation flared in my chest; my heart started pounding unbearably, because I could do it. I could _do_ it and there was nothing to stop me, but myself. Shane wouldn't even guess until I was well away. He promised me the moment this... _thing_ broke out that we'd go to my apartment to get my roommate. He promised that once he went to the hospital for Rick, we'd go. But then Rick was dead and he had to find Rick's family, and there was only the police cruiser that we were stuck sharing. There hadn't even been time to beg him to drop me off at the station in order to take my own car.

Beside me, the dog yelped and pushed his face against my leg. His nose was wet. I pushed him away gently, but my hand came away wet. Not just wet, but dripping, _warm_, and I recoiled from the damp touch of his muzzle. The red haze of the cruiser's lights made the blood on my hand look scarlet.

I flinched away from the beast then.

Up the steps and inside, I slammed the door and rushed over to the kitchen sink. It wasn't until I'd scrubbed my skin raw that I realized the boy had been watching me the entire time. "You packed up?"

He just stared.

I turned and put my back to the sink, leaning into the counter. "Is your mother packed?" I asked.

His eyes went to the door that led to the garage, then settled on my now-clean hand. "What happened?"

"Nothing," I said dismissively, unconsciously rubbing at my badge.

"Who are you?"

I blinked. In all things that was the crisis, Shane had neglected to introduce me. "My name's Aurora."

"Did you work with my dad?"

_Oh_. "No... I, uh, started just after he left, actually."

"You took his place, didn't you?"

"No, of course not. I was Shane's temporary partner."

"But now that he's dead, you don't have to –"

Mercifully, the garage door open and out came Lori and Shane to save me from what would have been an unbearable conversation. She glanced over at me, then to Carl, and put on a smile that seemed thin.

"Carl and I are finished, but do you two have anything beside your uniforms?"

I opened my mouth to say that we'd be stopping by my apartment and I'd be getting my things, but Shane cut in with a brisk, "No, but we're in too much a hurry to stop by my place. The radio said that Atlanta was the place to go and we're gonna want to get on the highway as soon as we can." He looked over at me, swept me over, and said to Lori: "Rick's 'bout my size, and he wouldn't mind if I borrowed." A pause, wherein Lori's face tightened, but she nodded. "And Rory can manage, too."

"In his clothes?" I blurted.

"He wouldn't mind. You being a fellow cop and all."

That wasn't the point at all. "I thought –"

He quirked his lips in an almost smile that I think he meant to reassure, but that only made me feel a little more frustrated and that made the car keys in my fist feel heavier. Perhaps, I should have done it.

After a quiet comment or two, Lori parted ways to the hall and Carl trudged after her. It left Shane and I in the living room, but he quickly headed toward the door and nodded for me to follow him. "Got to put this in back with the rest," he said, bobbing the pack slung over his shoulder full of odds and ends.

Outside I unlocked the car and watched Shane's back as he fussed over the organization and stock count of the things in the trunk. The whirling lights were starting to give me a headache the darker the sky grew and it made it impossible to spot that dog, or any other thing in our surroundings for that matter. "Do you still have the keys to the cruiser?" I asked. "I want to turn off those lights."

"They buggin' you?"

"They're not helping us much."

He turned, pulling the keys from his pocket. I held out a hand to catch them; he usually threw them. I'd learned that from the few months I'd spent as his partner. Except, this time, he hesitated. His brow creased as he peered at me in the flashing dark. It was then that I knew he could see right through me.

"You aren't gonna just peel out of here, are you?"

I frowned back, shifted underneath his regard, and stretched my fingers around the handle of my gun.

"You don't need the cruiser anymore," I replied. "You've got Lori's car."

He gave me a look caught between disbelief and vexation. "You're just gonna go off on your own?"

"I have to go find my roommate. She's... my best friend.. my person. I can't just ditch town without at least trying." I paused, letting that grow heavy in the air. "Besides, my things are at my apartment."

"What are the chances your roommate hasn't already jumped into a car to Atlanta? That's what the smart people are going to do, and if they aren't the smart people, they're the dead ones walking."

"Then call me stupid, because I'm going back for her before I leave. I went all the way with you to the hospital, and I had your back then, and I even came here with you and helped out, but I have to go –"

He gestured to the house. "You think I should have just ignored their existence? There's a child and mother in there right now, defenseless and, to boot, grieving their loss. They're here, right now. They're alive and in need, and we're right here, too, right now. What are the chances your friend will be there? What are the chances she'll still be there by the time you get all the way across town? They're a whole lot lower than the chances of Lori and Carl surviving if you stay and help protect them. Isn't that what you swore fresh out of the academy, to serve and protect? If you honestly believe that it's worth it, then I won't stop you." He thrust the keys at me and I barely caught them in time. "But if you think better of it, I need back up here."

Curt and to the point; just like the mentor-Shane I'd come to know, being the rookie-cop in this co-worker relationship. I stared at the keys in my hands for a moment, working through his words, working through the doubt and the guilt that bloomed as a result of them, and drowning in it.

One thought seeded itself, quietly, at the back of my mind: _If you'd gone first thing, she would have been there. _But I hadn't, I'd trusted Shane to keep his promise, and I'd gone to the hospital for Rick, too.

Now I was here, in the throbbing darkness, with Shane's dark, dark eyes bearing down on me.

I sighed and held out my hand. He put his underneath it and I let the keys fall back into his palm.

"For a second there, I thought you'd actually leave," he said. Then, quietly: "Thanks."

"What are partners for?"

* * *

**~ Billie ~**

_It was really too warm for a thick woollen coat, but for some reason, I was shivering. My heels clicked across the pavement as I headed down the street for my car. Sure, they hurt my feet after a while, but stick a couple of Band-Aids on the backs of my heels and I would be fine. Not only did the black stilettos make me taller, but they made me feel like a real lady, not a lower-class university graduate two months into her bank job._

_Part of the reason I parked a block away from the bank was so none of my co-workers would see my crummy little Ford Falcon. 1997 model…it was pretty shit. Just like most things I owned. I frowned as I passed the newsagency, watching a pair of men scuttle out with bottles of soft drink. It was nearly five, but the streets were practically dead. What was going on? _

_"Hello?" I peered into the newsagency. Was the guy behind the counter aware that he'd probably just been robbed? But no, it was so very quiet in there as well. Newspapers on the front desk rustled in the slight breeze. Starting to get a bit nervous, I gnawed at my lip and looked around. The fridges were nearly emptied of drinks. Was there seriously no one working behind the counter?_

_So there was the manager, standing hunched over near the greeting cards. I had seen him a few times before, but never spoken to him before now. I shuffled closer hesitantly, nervously. I had never been good with talking to strangers. I wasn't what one would call social._

_"Um, excuse me? Sir? I think you've been robbed…"_

_The manager turned to face me, head tilted oddly to the side. There was something about his eyes, something off, something I couldn't place…he moved towards me with outstretched hands, growling like a kicked dog…_

_An arrow suddenly pierced the manager through the head, and I couldn't help but scream. Sure, I hadn't exactly grown up in the best environment, but I had never seen anyone killed in front of me. I spun around to see my brother, Daryl, lowering a crossbow. I could only watch in utter shock as Daryl brushed past me, ripping the arrow free of the dead man's skull. The sound made me screw my eyes shut and grimace._

_"You killed him," I accused, but my voice was devoid of any true anger. Something had been wrong with the manager. Something was off. I had known that since walking down the empty street towards my car. Where was everyone?_

_"Shut up, Billie." Daryl's tone was abrupt and he turned back to face me. "Take those damn shoes off. You can't go nowhere in them."_

_"What? Where are we going?" I was honestly surprised. I hadn't seen Daryl since before I'd started working at the bank…months ago now. Yet he knew just where to find me. It seemed like he'd been looking for me urgently. Were we in some kind of trouble? I peeled off my high heels, stretching out my toes._

_"To find Merle," Daryl replied, setting off out of the newsagency as I followed in utter bewilderment._

* * *

I lurched upwards, choking for air. My hair was all tangled and my body was glossy with sweat. My heart thumped wildly in my chest, and it took me a moment to realise that I was okay, everything was okay. Licking my parched lips, I gave a quiet sigh of relief, before turning to check that the other occupants of my tent were also just fine.

Daryl slept silently beside me, a sleeping bag tangled around his waist. His bow was within arm's reach, so that he could grab it without a second's thought if he needed to. I couldn't help but smile as I watched him toss restlessly. Even in sleep, there was nothing placid about my brother.

I looked further across to see my oldest brother Merle, planted face-down in a pillow. I refrained from laughter. We never had camping experiences as a kid, so I guess this is the closest it was gonna get. Part of the reason was because of the huge age difference between us – Merle was twenty-five years my elder, Daryl fourteen. I was really only their half-sister, because I had a different mom, but they treated me like I was full-blood.

Merle and Daryl had protected me since the virus struck, and I knew that they would continue to do so. I was grateful, but I couldn't help but feel useless. I didn't know how to fire a gun. I flinched at the sound of it going off. I had never shot anything in my life. Merle probably fired his first bullet before I was even born. It was a bit of a scary thought.

I curled my knees to my chest, closed my eyes and counted to ten. Sometimes, it all got so overwhelming. Sure, my background was pretty damn crap, but the world had definitely turned to shit now. At first it was just my brothers and I braving it on our own, but then we ran into the rest of the survivors. Now, I wasn't really a people person. It took me a while to make friends, even longer to trust. I didn't mind most of the group, but there was something about Shane Walsh that just didn't sit right with me. Maybe it was because when I looked into his dark eyes, I saw another man.

"Billie?" Daryl's hoarse voice made me jump. He shifted in his sleeping bag and sat up. "What you doing awake? You should be getting sleep."  
"Nightmares again," I murmured. The name 'Dixon' should come with a certain level of intimidation – and for my brothers, that was true. But I had always been the one who stuck out like a sore thumb. I shared Daryl's green eyes, but had the same auburn hair as my grandma. My features were a lot softer, and my personality was too. I was the only Dixon kid to have actually graduated from high school and university. Not that a pretty certificate declaring my Finance Major had any worth these days.

"Hey." Daryl reached across and rubbed my back. He had always been the sweeter brother. I couldn't remember the last time Merle showed me affection, and although Daryl wouldn't be a big sap in front of the rest of the group, it was different when we were alone. I had just turned twenty-two, but to Daryl, I would always be his baby sister. "I'm right here, okay? Ain't nothing gonna get you while I'm here. Promise."

I believed him. I had always believed him. He was the only man who I had ever trusted. I loved my brother Merle, but we'd never been that close. I hadn't trusted him since…well. It was all old history now. Suffice to say that Merle and were too different, polar opposites more like. If Merle made me a promise, I would think he would break it. But Daryl had never broken a promise yet.

"Okay."

I lay back down and curled on my side, aware that my brother was sitting vigilant beside me. It made a small smile creep across my face, and I was glad it was dark so he couldn't see it. I fisted my hands tight in the blanket and faded into the sound of crickets and snapping twigs.

* * *

If there was one thing I was good at, chopping vegetables up all neatly was probably it. Neither of my brothers had ever been excellent cooks – but that was okay, because Daryl did the group's hunting. He found the meat, we cooked it. Lori Grimes was generally in charge of the cooking, but sometimes she needed help from me or Carol Peletier.

Part of the thing being in a group of survivors is that over time, you find out everything about them. Lori was the wife of a deceased cop, who had escaped with her twelve-year-old son, her husband's best friend Shane, and Shane's new partner Rory Verna. Rory stuck around Shane a lot, and to me she looked fresh out of the academy. Probably a year or two older than me, tops. I looked over my carrots to see the blonde helping Shane set up a fire over which we'd cook the meat.

"Billie?" Lori glanced at me with concerned brown eyes. She was rail-thin, something I had always envied in women when I had been younger. Probably because their graceful slenderness made my curves feel like chubbiness in comparison. "You sliced your finger."

"Oh." I looked down to see blood welling from a small cut on my little finger. Right. I should probably have been paying more attention to what I was doing. There was no point trying to seek Merle out, because odds were he was causing trouble around the camp somewhere. It was no secret that Daryl and I were pretty much the only ones who accepted him.

I wondered what the cops thought of him, Shane and Rory. He was the type they shoved in the slammer. He'd spent plenty of time in prison when I'd been a little girl. Reckless to the point of being dangerous, that was my brother Merle. I put the knife down and sighed heavily.

"First aid kit's in the RV," Lori stated with a shrug of her shoulders. "There should be some Band-Aids left. See if you can find Carl while you're there. I don't like the thought of him playing where I can't see him."

I headed across to the RV and glanced around for Carl. These days, it really wasn't safe to have your kids out of sight, especially with walkers crawling everywhere. But there he was – a flash of brown hair and pale skin, playing some card game with Carol's daughter Sophia. I exhaled in relief. I hadn't been looking forward to going on a search party.

A rustle in the bushes caught my attention, and my fingers fumbled for the handle of the knife I always carried with me. No point in having a gun when I had no idea how to fire one, and Merle said the gunshot would only attracted more walkers anyway. Better to do it with a knife. I slid it from my belt as a figure traipsed out of the bushes…

"What, gonna stab me, Billie? Nice way to greet your brother."

I groaned and lowered the knife, relief coursing through me. It was only Daryl. Part of the problem was that we lived life on the edge, thinking every stealthy movement was a walker coming to get us. I fell into step beside my brother as he headed back towards the camp.

"Get anything?"

"Nothing." Daryl sounded disappointed, and I knew he prided himself on being an expert hunter. Where he had learned those skills, I had no idea. Another problem with our age gap – not living together meant there was plenty we didn't know about each other. I wasn't sure that I was ready to ask yet either.

"Going out again later?"

I knew the way Daryl functioned. Failure wasn't an option, persistence was key. If he hadn't caught anything this time, he'd just go back until he had. I couldn't understand it myself, but maybe I was just the sort of person who was more prone to giving up. He might have returned to camp now but he would be restless and agitated until he succeeded in finding something.

"Yep. If you're thinking you're gonna be coming, you ain't."

My shoulders slumped. How was I meant to learn how to use any weapons if neither of my brothers was willing to teach me? I guess that hinting at hunting with Daryl for about a week meant he knew I was going to be asking again sometime soon. I was meant to just hang around the camp with all the other women? I think any of them could tell that I wasn't a real lady. I had grown up around boys, grown up trying to prove to my brothers that I wasn't fragile.

"Come on, Daryl. Give me a chance."

Daryl's voice was firm and I could tell that his answer was final. "Hell no."


	2. Better Judgement

**Chapter Two: Better Judgement**

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** A/N: Thanks to those who have reviewed, favourited and followed. This story might have a slow start, but it's necessary for character and relationship building. To anyone new reading this, reviews would be very helpful. Constructive criticism and feedback are always appreciated.**

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**~ Billie ~**

"What?!"

I knew that I shouldn't have been yelling, not when there could be walkers around. We were always told to keep the noise down, just in case. I wasn't even normally the sort of person who shouted. Yelling and flying fists tended to make my stomach coil unpleasantly. But at the moment, I was incensed. I was a woman in her early twenties being treated like she was about twelve years old. My furious gaze settled upon Merle, who didn't looked in the least bit intimidated.

"You ain't coming," he persisted.

I huffed, folding my arms over my chest. The argument had been the same for the last twenty minutes, but Merle wasn't budging. I knew a supply run to the city was considered a big deal. I knew that Atlanta was crawling with walkers. But I got sick of having to sit around the camp while both of my brothers went out and actually did things. Maybe if one of them actually taught me how to fire a gun, I would have more experience with weapons.

"Isn't Rory coming?" I pointed out sullenly, knowing that I was opening a whole new can of worms with that. Rory was only two years my senior, but she was also a cop. She and Shane were trained to deal with situations like the one we were currently faced with. She knew how to fire a gun. Rory was useful. That last thought caused a bitter taste in my mouth. If I died, the group wouldn't miss out on anything vital. There were people we needed, and people who helped out along the way. I was one of the latter.

"You worked in a bank, Billie," Merle reminded me, blue eyes narrowing in frustration at my continued protests. "You don't know shit about how to deal with what's out there. We do."

"And Andrea?" I gestured to the blonde woman who would be accompanying the others to the city. "She doesn't know how to fire a gun or use a weapon either. Does Jacqui? Does Glenn?"

"Thanks for singling me out," Andrea muttered, a comment I ignored. Andrea's sister Amy was only a few years older than, but Andrea and I had never exactly mixed well.

I curled and uncurled my hands. I knew that Merle was right, and that was what made me angrier. When the virus had started, I'd been so reluctant to kill a walker. I had still seen them as people, and the first killing had felt so much like a murder that I had isolated myself and attempted to deal with the conflicting emotions I was feeling. I had known that it was necessary, but there was also the knowledge that the creature I had killed was once a person.

That was my fundamental problem, the one I didn't want to admit to: I was weak. The virus had changed most of the population into walkers, but what about those who were still left? Some of them didn't count as human. There had been a lot of monsters in my childhood, monsters that I tried to forget about. But my weakness stemmed from the fact that I could never kill one of them if I tried to. I just didn't have the stomach for it.

"You know what? Fine." I threw up my arms in agitation. There was no way I was going to be able to convince Merle to change his mind, and he appeared relieved at my admission of defeat. "I'll just do some regular women's business like washing clothes or something."

I spun on my heel and stalked away from my oldest brother, fully aware that I was acting like a spoilt brat who hadn't gotten her way. But maybe if Merle looked deeper, he would understand why I was so desperate to prove myself. I raked a hand through hair and resigned myself to working around the camp. Maybe I would just have to discuss this further with Merle when he returned.

* * *

**~ Rory ~**

"_Fuck_."

"Now, that's no way for a young lady to talk. Here, let me show you how it's done."

"Thanks." I surrendered easily to Dale's offer, handing him the matches and kindling. I sat back in the dirt and watched passively as he worked over the ashes of all the past fires I'd painstakingly lit before. It took him literally two seconds, and I sighed. "You've been watching me do this for days – _how_ have you kept yourself from laughing over my attempts? Where did you learn to do it so well?"

"I've had a little practice. My wife and I.. we took a few classes on this camping stuff, before.."

_Before the illness took her, _I finished mentally; I'd known his story for some time. He'd used it to explain his position here in our hastily made 'group', with his RV and those young girls he'd picked up.

"Maybe you should take over here more often then."

"I'm sure I could.. and Lori mentioned before that they could use you over there more with them." He gestured across the way where Lori stood with the other women of the group, hanging up the wet clothes on a clothes line I'd helped Shane put up a week ago. "You've been doing a lot of guard duty."

I had been, I knew, but, guns were so much more comfortable to hold. I'd gone to an academy specifically to learn how to guard, rather than to submit to the every day life of a household woman. It was almost an insult to myself... and I knew that kind of thinking was absurd and far too feminist and selfish for the situation.. of the entire world at the moment, so I nodded to Dale and smiled gratefully.

"I guess I'll get on that then."

I collected the remaining kindling and handed Dale the designated fire-poker that Carl had found for us; it was a regular old stick. As he arranged the logs, I hesitated. I picked up the match box and it rattled minimally; a very unsatisfactory sound. Opening it, I found that we had about ten matches left.

"The supply run is today isn't it?" I asked.

"That is a positive."

"Good." I tossed the matches back to him, then looked about the camp. "Where's Shane?"

"I believe he is disapproving something around here somewhere," Dale replied wryly.

I threw him a smile, that didn't reach my eyes, and wandered away, feeling uneasy. Of course, it was a familiar emotion; I couldn't sleep these days without feeling uncertain and sick to my stomach with fear.

Sure enough Shane was talking with the supply runners, telling them to be careful and whatnot.

I stood with the others, listening, until he'd finished. Glenn was a bit over enthusiastic about the whole thing; he was a bit enthusiastic about everything, and I suppose it was part of his charm. Andrea brushed my shoulder as she turned and walked back to where her sister was waiting, and her mumbled apology did less to curb my discontent than my current opinion of her – which was based solely on her concern for her sister's well-being and Dale's good word, despite my wish to judge her on her actions. Merle blundered about, spit, and then grumbled something to that cross-bow loving brother of his.

I was about to suggest something to T-Dog, but Shane had finally noticed me and motioned me over.

I hastened to his side.

"You ready?" he asked.

"For what?"

"I was under the impression you were going."

I blinked – _going_, he said. "To the city?"

"That is where the run is, yeah," he said, with a considerable amount of humor. Enough that I felt my shoulders un-tense and I managed a slim smile. "Why wouldn't you go? They could use you, I think."

"You aren't going," I pointed out.

"They need me here."

I cast a look about our mountain side arrangement. "We're pretty isolated here."

"And the city is crawling with walkers," he agreed. "They'll need as much help as they can get."

I looked back to him and his eyes were across the way, on Lori. The collar of Rick's shirt against my neck began to itch, the way it always does, and I shrugged my shoulders in complaint. Passing a hand over my gun, my fingers inevitably found my belt buckle. I looked at my shoes; my police boots.

"Tell me to go," I murmured and waited.

He turned back to me, finally, and despite myself I looked up and met his stare; I tried not to be ornery, but, perhaps, some of my dislike showed, or maybe he saw that I was going to make him use the words 'you have to go' as an order, instead of mere suggestions, before I went. He frowned, the disapproval plain in the lines of his forehead, and I felt the urge to laugh (for Dale's words) and to rage, as well.

The rage, however, was short lived, once he asked, "Would you want to go on the run, Aurora?"

"Rory," I corrected and then I said, "Who would have my back?"

He understood the significance of that. He knew I didn't really trust the others, not the way I trusted my old partner – one of the only people I actually knew there, in that camp – and so he nodded, in that way he does, with his jaw all clenched and his dark eyes very steady on my face. "Stay here, then."

Shane turned away, the disapproval still showing, and I frowned. I took a step after him, then halted.

I curled my fingers into a fist, forced it back to my side, instead of reaching out, and turned away, too.

Inevitably, my gaze was on Lori again, and I headed over to join them in their work. It took more than the moving of my feet, to be honest. As I got closer the more uneasy I got at the idea of our coming conversation; it was bound to be worse than mine and Shane's. That being said, the conversation will be short and curt and I'll be shifting my eyes from hers more than a few times. It was exactly that, despite that she was smiling, and she was very glad to give me tasks to do, none of which I complained about.

Mid-way through my methodical folding of clothes in perfect union with a woman named Carol, Billie, the tri- of the Dixon trifecta, came over to join us, throwing down her basket of newly washed clothes with a bit of gusto and a huff of indignation. "Can you believe my brothers? Sometimes, I just can't."

"They're a bit much, yeah," Lori agreed offhandedly from where she stood; she always tried to agree.

I inputted, concerned, "What did they do this time?"

Billie glanced up at me with a slight start, then her eyes darted from Carol, Lori, and the other ladies with us, as if looking to them for confirmation of my presence; however, once she'd gotten over her understandable surprise, she composed herself. She straightened, her green eyes becoming as firm as Daryl's can be, though not quite so sharp, and said, "They've forbidden me from going on the supply run. Which wouldn't have been so bad if they'd just have asked me to stay behind, really." Then, after picking up a shirt and folding it, her eyes landed on me again, a bit narrowed. "Aren't you going?"

"Not in the least."

"Why not? You're more use there, aren't you?"

For a moment I considered whether or not I should be offended by that statement, and then I was forced to observe my slowly building tower of clothes; it had a lilt in it and threatened to fall at any given moment, whereas Carol had a sorted amount of piles all about her – not that I knew how exactly they'd been separated – and Billie kept holding my stare as she polished off five more shirts or so, not glancing down once. I shrugged lamely. "Shane told me to stay." _More or less_, I added silently.

And after another huff from Billie and a judged look from Lori that I felt crawling under my skin, I thought, even more silently – if it were possible – _if only he'd just have asked me to, too, Billie._

* * *

**~ Billie ~**

The sound of a car alarm blaring had me on my feet in seconds. Someone was headed to the camp, probably one of ours in a stolen car. It wouldn't have surprised me if it was Merle. I marched over to the car as it pulled into park, but it was Glenn who slid from the driver's seat, beaming like he'd had the time of his life. Glenn was another camper I didn't mind – he was my age, so sometimes we talked about stuff. Mainly pizza. He'd been a pizza delivery boy, and I was a sucker for pizza. The thought of it just made my mouth water.

"Pop the damn hood," Shane seethed, walking over to disconnect the battery so that the alarm would stop. I knew a little bit about rigging cars – can't say that my brothers never taught me nothing useful. Once the alarm had stop blaring, Shane spun around to glower at Glenn. "Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?"

"Sorry." Glenn shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "Got a cool car."

A truck pulled up moments later, and thankfully this one wasn't blaring with any kind of alarm. I watched as the supply run group filed out of the truck with armfuls of food, water, blankets…only there was another guy there, one who definitely hadn't been with them when they'd left. He was wearing some sort of faded cop uniform and looked to be around Daryl's age.  
"Dad! Dad!" Carl sprinted over towards the guy in the cop uniform and I was utterly stunned when I realised exactly who this guy was. It was Carl's dad and Lori's husband, a man we'd all assumed to be dead – even Shane. It was Rick Grimes. I watched Rick's tearful reunion with his family, which abruptly reminded me that mine was nowhere in sight. I whirled on Glenn.

"Where's Merle? Isn't he with you guys?"

"Umm." Glenn suddenly looked uncomfortable, and I had a horrible sick feeling in my stomach all of a sudden. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice over my head and I could feel it all the way down to my toes. "No. No, he didn't come back with us. He's kind of still in the city."

"Still in the city?!" I exploded. Was Merle a walker? Was that what Glenn was trying to avoid telling me. Unfortunately my raised voice attracted the attention of Rick Grimes, who extricated himself from Lori and Carl's grasps and headed over to me. Glenn bowed his head, obviously very relieved about the intrusion on our conversation.

"I'm guessing you're asking about Merle. Do you know him?"

"Yeah, I'm his sister," I replied, trying to keep my cool. Maybe there was some kind of reasonable explanation for all of this. Rick was a cop, he was probably a sensible kind of guy. "Billie Dixon. Look, Glenn said Merle's still in the city. Did…did he become one of them?"

"No." Rick raked a hand through his dark hair. "Well, maybe. I'm not exactly sure. You see, Billie…your brother was causing trouble. He was out of control. We had to do something about it."

"So you left him there?" I asked, completely astonished. I knew that a lot of people in the group weren't exactly fond of Merle. Hell, sometimes I was among them. But leaving him in the city because he was causing trouble just seemed completely ruthless.

"Maybe we should wait until Daryl gets back to discuss this," Glenn suggested. I didn't want to wait to find out why Merle had been left behind. I wanted to know now. But I knew that it was probably better for Daryl and me to find out about it together. It seemed somewhat wrong to know what happened to Merle before he did. So I nodded and bit my lip, wondering what exactly Rick was going to say.

* * *

**~ Rory ~**

I was hovering behind Shane, my hands ready to slam the absurdly nice car's hood shut with just as much force, to just god damn shut it _up, _but there was Glenn grinning enthusiastically, impossibly enthusiastically, and I left it to Shane to chew him out over the absurdity of it all. His disapproval was so much more fierce than mine; I, knowing this, for I had been subject to it for so long, and Shane being virtually unperturbed by mine at every which occasion I'd presented him with it.

This, inexplicably, turned out to be one of those occasions, because there was Rick.

_Rick_ –

Officer Rick – Rick Grimes – Rick, Lori's husband _Rick_ – Carl's dad _Rick_ –

The supposedly _dead_ Rick –

I stood stupidly for a moment, as Rick wrapped himself around his son, but once Lori started moving forward to embrace the man, and I watched her legs strut over the distance – those long legs, the elegant legs, the ones I hate so much – I reanimated myself. I took a step toward Shane, where he stood still frozen, and I rested a hand on his shoulder. He tensed, but didn't turn to me. I said three words.

"You lied... again."

The disapproval in it was enough to make him shrug me off, but before he could say anything in reply, before he could justify himself, for either this or the still bitter memory of his last promise, a shrill voice cut through to our notice: "Still in the city?!" and Billie's distress made all my alarms go off.

"Who?" I asked, too soft for her to hear, but the nearby T-Dog heard.

"Merle."

I watched as Rick walked to Billie's side; his own alarms were alert, too, but they knew what they were doing, whereas mine found no way to soothe the situation, especially with my lack of information.

But once he'd gotten it out, and Billie's upset was only amplified, I wondered if he'd done it right.

* * *

**~ Billie ~**

Daryl didn't get back until the next day. My frustrations were mounting, piling on top of each other until I could almost feel them physically weighing upon my shoulders. I could have slapped Daryl for taking so long, but I wouldn't have. Violence went against my nature and my morals, and Daryl wasn't to know that something had befallen Merle.

I had been attempting to get more information from Glenn, but when he'd remained silent on the matter, I had gone to my tent alone and surly. Yet I hadn't been able to get any sleep. I was too concerned about Merle, and the tent was empty without either of my brothers there. So I drifted in and out of dreams, waiting for the first tendrils of light to creep out from beyond the horizon.

In the end, it was a commotion that woke me from my light doze, the sound of children screaming. I rolled to my feet and yanked my knife from my belt, my hands becoming clammy. The thought of walkers nearby always made me feel nervous. I'd played dodge ball in middle school, jumping and shifting and full of adrenaline. If you got hit, you were out. But this was no game, and it would only take one bite from a walker to end me.

"They never come this far up the mountain," Dale said as I hurried over to the scene. I stared down to see a headless walker and the gory carcass of a deer. Blood had never particularly disturbed me, it was the violence that made me cringe. The sound of branches snapping made us all tense. Walkers often moved in groups, and there was every likelihood that a second could have followed this one.

"Son of a bitch." It was Daryl who stepped out of the trees, to my immense relief. I lowered my knife and released the breath I hadn't even known I was holding. Irritation contorted my brother's features as he stared down at the deer carcass. "That's my deer! Look at it, all gnawed on by this…filthy, disease-bearing motherless poxy bastard!"

Daryl angrily kicked the walker's body, and I couldn't blame him. He had been out for days in the hope of bringing back more meat, and his prize had been taken by a walker. He was going to be even more pissed when he found out about Merle.

"Calm down, son," Dale said, attempting to placate my agitated brother, "That's not helping."

"I've been tracking this deer for miles." Daryl glared at Dale. "Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"

Daryl indicated to where the walker had obviously been gnawing on the carcass. I shuddered, knowing that even if they chose to have the deer, I wouldn't partake of it. The thought of a walker sharing the same meat as us left an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"I wouldn't risk that," Shane stated authoritatively, much to my relief. It was possibly the first time I'd agreed with him.

Daryl stepped back. "That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel…about a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

"Oh god!" Amy gasped, and I looked down to notice that the walker was gnashing its teeth. Revolted, I took a few steps backwards. Daryl acted quickly, shooting it in the head before glowering around.

"Come on, people. What the hell? It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?"

I gave Rick a meaningful look as Daryl headed back into camp with the squirrels. I didn't know this guy very well, but he'd promised to explain what had happened to Merle when Daryl returned – and now Daryl was back. I hoped that he was going to stick to his word.

"Merle!" Daryl called as he swaggered back into the camp. "Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel. Let's stew 'em up."

"Daryl, just slow up a bit." It was Shane who wandered over to Daryl, who had the courage to approach him. "I need to talk to you, about Merle. There was a…there was a problem in Atlanta."

Daryl seemed to mull over his words. "He dead?"

I listened in closely to the conversation, which Rick joined in quickly, informing Daryl that he'd…handcuffed Merle to a roof and left him in Atlanta. I hurried over with my hands planted on my hips. Daryl was similarly furious, and I stepped between him and Rick.

"What gives you the authority to leave my brother to die?"

"Hold on." Daryl held up his hands, effectively silencing me. "Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed our brother to a roof and you left him there?!"

Daryl lunged at Rick, who shoved him back. I backed away, knowing that although there were reasons for Daryl to be mad, I still abhorred any form of violence. I swallowed hard, especially when Daryl took out a knife. I could feel the scream bubbling up in my throat, but it never emerged. Shane grabbed Daryl in a chokehold and I couldn't help but feel relieved that my out-of-control brother had been restrained.

"Chokehold's illegal," Daryl rasped from behind Shane's strong arm wrapped around his throat.

"You can file a complaint," Shane replied coolly, not relinquishing his grasp. "Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day."

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic." Rick stated, moving towards Daryl. As usual, I felt invisible. Did my opinion on what had happened to Merle not matter? "Do you think we can manage that?"

"Yes." I stepped forward and folded my arms over my chest. I was tired of being ignored and I was tired of seeing these idiots fight over something that should be discussed properly. "We can."

Rick glanced at me as though he was surprised that I'd spoken. Shane released Daryl, who was still looking ready to murder Rick. I placed a hand on Daryl's arm, hoping that I might be able to calm him down, but he shrugged me off.

"What I did was not on a whim," Rick said slowly, "Your brother doesn't work and play well with others."

"It's not Rick's fault," T-Dog walked over, looking guilty. "I had the key. I dropped it in a drain."

I rolled my eyes to the heavens. "You dropped it."

"Hell with all y'all!" Daryl threw his arms up angrily. "Just tell me where he is so that I can got get him."

"I'll come too," I offered, raising my chin to meet Daryl's scowl of displeasure. I knew that he wouldn't want me to come along. Would he really forbid me from accompanying him on a trip to look for our brother? That probably wasn't even a question.

"No you ain't. You're staying right here, Billie."

"He'll show you." It was Lori who spoke, quietly, but with enough conviction to break through the tension as she glanced coldly at Rick. "Isn't that right?"  
I bit my lip. Rick was only just back and already Lori wanted to send him out again? Sure, it wasn't my place to say anything. I didn't know Rick, and I barely knew Lori. It just seemed a bit risky to me. How did she know she wouldn't lose him again? I gave Daryl one last pleading look, but he shook his head firmly.

"Unbelievable." I folded my arms over my chest. "Fine. I'm staying."

* * *

**~ Rory ~**

"Who will watch your back?"

I momentarily pressed my lips together, debating an answer, and replied, "I will."

Shane snorted; not in a way that I felt insulted, really, but as if he were trying to throw off his surprise. He glanced over to where Rick, T-Dog, Daryl, and Glenn were readying to go out in search of Merle. Lori was nowhere in sight, so his eyes eventually landed back on me, at the pack I had in my hands, and the gun I was currently checking for bullets. "You can't seriously be going to look for this guy."

"Merle might not be the best guy, no," I said, and I threw a look around my back to make sure no other Dixon was around to hear; the last thing I needed was an enemy like Daryl, or Billie's upset. "But.."

"But?" Shane pressed. "I don't get it. You don't go for the supply run, for the benefit of everyone, but you'll go on a fruitless rescue mission for a guy who doesn't even sound like he deserves to come back. He was a racist sexist bastard and you know it. How many times have we had to set that guy stra –"

"_But_," I said again, "neither are any of us really," I finished, turning around to face him, stepping close enough that I had to tip back my head to meet his stare and force him to see the anger. "Even you."

He looked affronted, of course. Acting was his forte; I'd recognized real Shane from fake for weeks now, just about the same way he recognized it in me seconds after we met. "You can't be serious. I explained that... I thought he was dead. He's my best friend, you know how upset I was after the hospital, I tried... and I tried to get you to your apartment, but it was crazy that day. You have to let it go for fuck's sake –"

"For fuck's sake or _your_ sake, Shane?" I cut in, shaking my head. "It doesn't matter... it's not a _grudge_. I'm just... disappointed, I guess. I'm trying to trust you. I have to, because if I don't trust you, that means I don't trust anyone in this world, and how does someone live like that?" I looked away then, throwing my pack around my shoulders and pivoting toward the rest of the rescue group. "I can't trust you, so now I have to start trusting myself more," I finished. "So, yes, I'll have my own back in the city."

"Then what are partners for?" he threw at my back almost too late for me to hear. It was more a sneer than anything and too sarcastic for me to feel any dignity in _actually_ answering him, but it did remind me that him and Rick had once been partners and in a slip of judgment my brain thought to reply to it:

"For fucking their wives apparently."

I didn't turn back to see what his expression might have been.

I was actually sort of hoping I died on the outing, so I'd never have to know what it was.

(Or, you know, found a convenient car to conveniently drive away in.)


End file.
